I Feel a Christmas Poem Coming On. . . .

The Christmas Journey

The boy says:

This year my family drove a long way
to chop down a Christmas tree.
We had a Forest Service permit
to pick out a tree for free.

We carried it home on the top of the car,
and set it up by the stair,
and hung it full of lights and balls,
and then I had a big scare.

As I was putting the last tinsel on,
Enjoying the smell of the tree,
I looked at a limb around on the back
and something looked back at me!

A mouse skittered out and ran down the hall
till he came to the laundry room.
My mom and dad followed, fast as they could,
and cornered the mouse with a broom.

We carefully closed him inside a jar
and punched a few holes in the lid.
“We ought to take him back to the woods
where he came from,” I said—so we did.

We drove a long way again. I held the jar.
We walked up the hill like before.
When I opened the lid, he dashed away thrilled
to be back at his home once more.

The mouse thinks:

I lived in their woodpile all summer.
In fall, I slipped into their house.
I was only exploring their pretty tree,
so now I’m a forest mouse.